Young raver is always a good example of someone who feels like he should casually drp the fact that he has occasional sex into conversations. Take this one, for instance:
YR: "You went to Cardiff university, didn't you?"
YR: "Is that anywhere near North Wales?"
Mane: "No... but where in North Wales?"
YR: "Er, I can't remember the name of the place, but... it's got a Y in it or something."
Mane: "In any case, Cardiff is in South Wales."
Crazy Lady: "Why do you want to go to North Wales anyway?"
Crazy Lady: "There isn't a girl you want to have sex with there, is there?"
YR: "Well... two."
But that wasn't the only thing that our young raver felt like revealing last night. He also went on at some length about penis sizes and how massive the boobs of someone we've never actually heard of before are (it's kind of hard to picture massive boobs on anyone, never mind someone you've never seen). And then, as we were eventually heading out of the pub towards the cold night air, he finally cottoned onto the fact that most people had been talking about Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for a large part of the evening.
I don't actually like Fear and Loathing, by the way. I've seen it with... well, with this group of people (for they are MY FRIENDS, would you believe it?), but plunging into the murky depths of my subconscious and veering catastrophically past everything that periodically goes wrong in my spasmodic life, I remember very clearly that young raver wasn't there. So when did he see it? Well, he was all too ready to reveal all.
"Well, I saw it in my bed with May, yeah, and she really liked it, yeah, but I got bored and had sex with her, yeah, and then afterwards I thought, right, I thought, yeah, that this film was so boring that I had to have sex! What do you think about that?"
Everyone exchanged confused glances. This sort of conversational talent isn't atypical for him. I just don't think any of us knew who May was, that's all.